faltered
by matchboxcars
Summary: but something was gone, something had faltered
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't really anything that was worth noticing, but Kirk noticed anyways. The only word Jim could think of to describe it was distance, Spock was putting a distance between himself and everyone else, more specifically Jim. But we tend to take things personally, and Kirk was doing his best not to.

It wasn't as if Spock wasn't declining to go to dinner, meeting Kirk for breakfast, and chess, walking with him to the bridge, no, he was there, punctual and polite as usual, but something was gone, something had faltered. If he looked at Spock for long enough while they were on shift, he would see it: tiny moments of pause, an exhausted pose, what seemed like an inability to work for only a minute fraction of time.

It took Kirk a great deal of thought, how does one approach an unnoticeable, perhaps invisible problem? But finally, with apprehension swirling chaotically in his stomach, he rang the buzzer to Spock's quarters; a little late in the evening for propriety, perhaps, but Kirk knew his friend would overlook that.

"Good evening captain"

" I think I'm Jim tonight, Spock"

"Jim"

Spock did not look as if he minded the disturbance, nor did his tone sound so, but there was something there, something slightly forced, a little bit of overcompensation. Kirk knew he couldn't just jump in, confront his first officer of a problem that had no evidence, so he walked into the room, sat at the desk, while Spock took the other seat.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, no, Spock, how long ago where we on Organia?"

It had been a moment of insight, Kirk's memory suddenly flashing him the picture of Spock returning with the Klingons, saying "But it was an interesting experience", pale, gaunt, a little bit of humor to make everything as okay as possible so that Kirk wouldn't see something. But to the present, Kirk returned to a nine o clock evening with his first officer sitting across from him, stiff in the shoulders and wary.

"Two weeks, three days, and seven hours captain."

"Ah. And what was that mind sifter like?"

"You have my report"

"But for you?"

He watched Spock contemplate his answer, watched the light from the console dart across his face, watched and saw, once again, that slight fracture in the façade. For a moment he looked like a child. He had been right. Kirk closed his eyes, guilt washing over him. His first officer had been raped, worse than physically, his mind.

"Spock" he whispered, "It's okay, you don't need to tell me, I should have known earlier.

Spock looked up, and looked lost, and then remembered where he was, his low eyes pleading with Jim, his face paling, and Kirk found himself at a loss as far as what he should do, his face moved closer to Spock's, forced the Vulcan to meet his eyes, and nearly recoiled from the effect the torture in them had on him.

Spock closed his eyes, "I ask forgiveness"

"No", Jim said, "you have done nothing wrong, this wasn't your fault, none of this is, you didn't ask for it"

Spock's eyes remained closed, but his head now rested between the two fingers on each temple. Jim pushed his chair back,

"Come on, I'll make you some tea, go lie down, you haven't been sleeping well, I can see that"

He put his arm around the willowy shoulders of his first officer when he sat down on the bed, and was surprised at the relaxation, instead of tensing of the muscles he felt under him. Spock took a sip of his tea, swallowed, winced, and spoke, softly.

"The back up section of the mind sifter is, that, if it does not work immediately, it installs nightmares into the victims mind that last for several months, for a spy, who would be captive for that amount of time, it is a most successful way of, as they say, breaking them. They kill you in my sleep every night, and then set me free. I watch you die, Jim, every night, and every morning believe you to be dead, until you appear, magically before my eyes. My day is spent knowing you will be killed when the evening comes. It is most difficult"

Jim had nothing to say, there was little he could do. He took the glass from Spock's hand, and set it down on the bedside table, and brought the Vulcan closer to him, covering them both with a blanket, sliding down so they were comfortable to sleep.

'Get some rest my friend, I promise, I'm alive, and will be in the morning"


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up to pewter darkness and charcoal eyes staring at him desperately.

"Spock?"

But there was no response, the Vulcan drew away, back into himself, and Kirk came to with a panic.

"What's wrong?"

The silence answered him, and the trembling of hands not his own. Spock was backed up against the wall, stony and expressionless, but Jim felt that if he would touch him, he would feel like kite strings pulled in a gale. He would snap in half.

"Spock, I'm here, it's okay"

But still the Vulcan did not answer, and flinched when Jim called for lights. Tentatively, Kirk reached out a hand, grabbed his first officer's shoulder, and gently shook him.

"It's over my friend, we're all safe now"

Spock's eyes finally met Kirk's, and thoughtfully, fearfully, Spock whispered

"It has changed"

Kirk had grown very tired in the five minutes he had been awake. Tired of fighting evil only to have his best friend take on the eyes and the ache of a frightened horse, only to have to jump back in to a non existent war, with non existent written off victims. Kirk had grown very tired of watching, of not being able to do much of anything, of the fact that he was dying, Spock was dying, it was all just a game of skirting death until the next opportunity arose and he was forced to skirt it again until really, it became just easier to simply pass on and pass away.

Spock was shaking now, memories of a dream torturing him even while he was awake, and Kirk pulled him close.

"What's different?"

"I kill you"

Kirk's eyes fell down like window shutters. That kind of loyalty was more rare than perfection, but for Spock it was torturous. He had no one else; really, his mother in a way, but Kirk knew that Sarek came first. He cursed a God he did not believe in for leaving Spock so alone in such a huge galaxy.

"You are incapable of that"

Spock's head swung up, the elegant eyebrow, the aristocratic lines, the inexpressive face and ever confessing eyes, that slight, tangled hope. A thin hand reached towards Kirk's heart, and, with a gentle touch, a simple contact, Spock was reaffirmed, a quietness coming over his features.

Somebody whispered thank you, and neither knew who said it.


	3. Chapter 3

Retrospect is an interesting thing: Perhaps we all do see a little bit of the future, but recognize it only in hindsight. Kirk certainly thought so. Because Spock had said it himself, _I kill you_, and then he nearly had. Kirk awoke from a dream of vibrant heat, and the shades of red that went alongside. He walked to the door, listened, heard nothing, not even the sounds of life, not breathing, sighing, chanting. He went through, with little hope.

It had been some time since he had seen Spock, only on the bridge, and there, he was silent. But Kirk had noticed, the tremor in the hands, the blink of the eyes a prolonged experienced, he knew, his first was having "emotional difficulties." So Kirk took to walking the ship, a sort of scavenger hunt to give his mind purpose, looking for the ominous Vulcan.

"You have been elusive, my friend"

The tall form turned, his head having been bent over a console in lab 8, a dark and often deserted place, quiet.

"I believe Captain, I have been far more than elusive"

"And how is that?"

"I have been, to start with, out of control, murderous, dangerous, insubordinate, dishonest, and rampant, shall I continue"

"I thought, Spock, that you had been under a lot of stress, ill, emotionally traumatized, and exhausted, now first officer, you will march with me back to your quarters, and we will discuss this further, and then get some sleep."

"Jim"

"Spock, you didn't want any of this, now come, you look like you've lost about twenty pounds, we'll raid the fridge on the way back"

"Raid the fridge captain?"

"Shut up and walk, you"

Spock gave him a ghost of a smile, and Kirk let out a breath; improving already, there was hope. He pressed his hand to Spock's back, felt the muscles there, bunched and tight, relax, the shoulders drop, and Spock seemed, peaceful, at least, when they reached his quarters.

Sitting on the bed, stomachs full, Kirk looked at Spock, who was, he saw, looking at his hands, frozen.

"Spock?"

"You have dreams, I hear you."

Jim sighed, stood, his hands pressing into his lower back, fighting the ache. It had been hell for both of them, and he wondered if this would work, this recovery he had all planned out, where he would just get over it in helping Spock. He had no other ideas though, no other time honored way of fixing himself than to just ignore it all. Spock was looking at him, eyebrow raised, expression guarded.

"That's right, I do Spock, I dream, and so do you, don't you, or are you just not sleeping?"

The Vulcan looked down again, his lips becoming a thin line, and Kirk felt guilt rising in his throat. He had not intended to become angry.

"Oh Spock, you have to sleep, I'm alive, I'm here, see, I'm not going to leave you."

Spock's expression was disbelieving, and Kirk fought back the urge to slap the Vulcan in the face a few times to make him see, but everyone had left Spock, or not cared when Spock left, or disowned him, so what did he have to go on except absence?

Kirk sat back down, and turned Spock's face to look at him,

"I'm not going to leave you, you didn't mean to hurt me, and you fought everything your body was telling you to do until you couldn't so that you wouldn't hurt me. You didn't want this, I know that, give me some time, I won't dream anymore, I won't be afraid of you anymore, but I know, in my mind, that you had no wish to do this, I know that Spock. You're my brother."

"And you mine"

He had murmured the words, but it had been enough, Kirk had heard, and taking the form into his arms, he felt him give, and felt himself give, and thought, "This is enough." For was it not enough? All the fighting and dying and killing, it was enough, that simple moment of brotherhood, of love, of forgiveness for unwanted crime, "yes", Kirk thought, "it is enough."


	4. Chapter 4

And time it took. Kirk awoke each morning to a residue of tradition and heat, his eyes blinking rapidly as if to remove sand. Spock had, once, tried to help him, when he woke, but Kirk pushed him away, turning over so as not to see the Vulcan think and repress an emotional response. He talked to McCoy, a brandy in hand and the cynical doctor suddenly an empath, a sought out comfort who gave Kirk the tools to sleep, dreamless, for at least a few hours.

So time slipped by, enough, at least, for Kirk. Walking to the mess one night for a late dinner, he finally felt the urge to invite Spock, to talk to him about Darbian plant life and Starfleet's latest protocol. He pressed the buzzer to Spock's quarters, happy for the first time in a while, but no answer came. He walked away with a shrug, forming a new resolve to play chess with his first later on.

But Spock could not be found. Kirk's mind became a movie on rewind, little instances of Spock's distress playing clearly in his mind, ones he must have filed away in order to deal with his own emotions. Kirk walked to McCoy's office, found the man hunched over a blood sample,

"when was the last time you saw Spock?"

"a week ago for his physical, what is it?"

"what did that show"

At this, McCoy put down his work, turned in his chair to face Kirk, his face a softened mask, his hands folded,

"He's lost a lot of weight Jim, and he's not getting nearly enough sleep. I told him to come back today."

"and has he?"

"of course not. Jim, what's going on"

"Bones, I… I pushed him away, and now, he thinks I've left him, everyone leaves him"

The doctor motioned towards a chair, relaxed back in his seat, and pressed the call button on his desk. When the nurse came in, he said

"Use the locator and find Mr. Spock, remind him nicely he has an appointment, and bring him back here with you"

turning back to Kirk, he raised his eye brow,

"We'll find him, he can't really go anywhere, and as for you leaving him, you haven't done any such thing, you needed time Jim, you told him that, he needs to fix his own problems. That's not your burden."

Kirk nodded, and then stood, pacing the room,

"this is crazy Bones, I've known the entire time he didn't want to do it, he tried to help me get over the dreams, he woke me up, and you know what I did? I said, get out, I don't want to see you, and then I turned around, he tried again, Bones, he came to me, he touched my shoulder, and I yelled at him Bones, I yelled at him to leave, to never come near me. He had thought everything was okay, I told him it would be."

Kirk turned to look at the doctor, his expression one of agony,

"I was cruel to him"

Spock appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, and with a nod, the nurse left, looking slightly exasperated. McCoy swallowed a smirk, and then motioned the first officer to a diagnostic bed just outside the door.

"be there in a minute Mr. Spock"

Kirk gave McCoy a panicked look, and the doctor just nodded and waved his hand,

"let me check him out Jim, and then we'll go from there"



"You're late, Mr. Spock"

The Vulcan merely gave McCoy an expressionless stare; McCoy turned on the diagnostic chart, and his eyebrows shot up at the readings.

"When was the last time you ate Mr. Spock?"

"I do not recall doctor, may I ask the relevance?"

"Well, Spock, it's like this, you're underweight, dehydrated, spiking a fever, and your stress levels are through the roof, now answer me, when did you last eat?"

"six point six days ago"

"uh huh, so right when I ordered you to, you're so well behaved Spock, and for that, you're staying here over night, and tomorrow. Nurse, prepare a bed"

"Doctor, I fail to see"

"you're blind Spock, it's why I'm the doctor and you tell us about gravitational fields, now I suggest you just kick back, and I'm gonna go get you, I don't know, do you drink milkshakes?"

"No doctor, they are unhealthy and full of sugar"

"alright, you're drinking one tonight you pointy eared…"

Spock's eyebrow rose at the departing doctor, an inexplicable relief flooding his body that he was here, and not alone, in his quarters, where it was getting harder and harder to fight the little voice, the one saying, "it could end, you don't have to deal with this anymore, it doesn't really matter" and there was a certain comfort in that, of course, in the knowledge that he could just become nothing, not exist, darkness, but he was Vulcan, and logic took over before he could formulate a plan. So he existed, with the knowledge that he did not have to, and he was falling, he knew, into tiny little shards of glass.

Kirk departed through the door in the office, his fingers twitching. He couldn't do this, guilt was welling up inside of him, alongside panic, and the minute he stepped outside he felt better, freer, and so, hungry once more, he made his way to the mess, falling in stride with Uhura and Chekov, who were more than happy to accompany him. Spock had heard his depart, and when McCoy entered the sickbay and approached Spock, he was struck by how childlike, how hurt the Vulcan looked, his eyes down, arms loosely folded over his knees, totally still, an art of sensitive children, that stillness was. McCoy gently set the tray down on the bedside table, sat on the edge of the bed, and placed his hand on Spock's shoulder,

"Spock"

The Vulcan shook his head,

"are you familiar, doctor, with a novel called Sula, from the twentieth century?"

"No?"

"hmm"

"Spock, what…?"

But the Vulcan merely shook his head again, and with a sigh, McCoy handed him is meal, of which Spock took a few bites, and then pushed away. McCoy hadn't the heart to force him into anything that night, he knew the man would live, at least until the morning, so with a gentle pat on the knee, he left the Vulcan in the half darkened room, knowing that there was one man who would sleep, and one who wouldn't, and he himself would do a little bit of both.

"_But there was no bottom, and there was no top, just circles and circles of sorrow" _

_Toni Morrison, __Sula_


	5. Chapter 5

Spock's dreams were lucid, swirled with emotion and logic; he awoke removed from reality, his eyes darting around the gray room with panic. He took three calming breaths, he pressed his thumb into his palm, and finally, with a sigh, he pulled the computer console into his line of view, attempting to find anything to gain back his concentration, but each time he chose a new topic, he ended, finding himself staring without comprehension at the console, his mind an abyss of insults and loneliness.

A shadow appeared in the doorway. Spock felt the most overwhelming exhaustion, wished he had been more attentive, so that he could have sunk into the bed, could have pretended to be asleep. But alas, the figure was approaching him, tentatively, and Spock suddenly knew that it was not McCoy, coming to yell at him to sleep and eat. It was Kirk.

"Captain"

"Spock"

Jim felt the need to gasp, or cry, or shout out. Spock was so thin. Spock was not sleeping. The Vulcan, to Jim, looked more bereft than he had ever before, his eyes empty, hollow cheeks, a tree twig wrist.

"Spock, you…"

Everything was falling flat. Kirk didn't know what to say. He had the urge to apologize, but it simply would not come. He had the urge to scream, to accuse Spock of weeks of sleepless nights, or nights where sleep would only come at the assistance of a pill, but that would not exit his mouth either. He wanted to tell Spock everything, the way the light came into the rec room that day, the way Uhura vibrated when she laughed, the fact that McCoy was actually an excellent listener, that his mother had bought a new vehicle, that his aunt was writing a novel. And he wanted Spock to tell him everything too, everything, the physics of a star, the survival rate of Senetian tulips, the politics of Vulcan. There was so much. There was so little time. He had no words. He had every emotion, no logic, no words, and Spock had a wrist that would break given a collision with anything except a pillow. Kirk found his fingers brushing over that wrist, the hair swaying like grass in the wind under his fingertips.

"Captain, please"

"Please what, Spock?"

There was a silence, there were Spock's downcast eyes, a moment surrounded only by senses, by fingers on skin that was, perhaps, cooler than it should have been,

"Forgive me"

Kirk felt the yell escaping; a vulture from a cage, his mind saying no, while his voice said the same thing, just, differently. Spock flinched.

"Don't ask me to forgive you, it has been done, it was done before the crime, if you wish to call it that, was even committed. You have punished yourself enough. I only needed time, Spock. You must forgive yourself, you must, look at you, you're dying."

"Jim"

Kirk took Spock's hand, He forced his eyes into Spock's, everything he could have said falling flat before it even left his mouth. Silence. Brotherhood was so eternal, so difficult, so necessary. Spock understood. He knew he did, he could see it in his dark, dark eyes. The light was returning. Kirk had found Spock, Spock had found Kirk, the dark was easing, the light was hazy, but light.

Spock squeezed Kirk's hand.

"Brothers" he whispered,

"Brothers" was answered.


End file.
